


Thunderstorms

by Zoni



Category: K-pop, U-KISS
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoni/pseuds/Zoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a sleepless night, AJ and Kiseop reclaim some of the closeness that was lost when they were separated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorms

Three o'clock. That's the time that's blinking at me from the clock on the nightstand. Those numbers and the sounds of the storm are the only things I can think about right now. Or rather, the only things that I'm trying to think about.

Sure, it's late. I have to get up at five thirty and get ready to work my ass off in practice. That doesn't really seem to matter, not after I watched him crawl out of bed and leave without so much as a second glance in my direction. I hate that, and I hate knowing where he went and why he won't be back tonight.

Kevin.

He hates storms. He says he doesn't like the loud noises, the flashes of light that come in through the window. It's worse during the summer, like right now, since we keep the windows open to let out some of the heat. On nights like this when the wind is blowing and the air seems to be crackling, it's enough to make it seem like the thunderstorms are happening in the room itself.

If he had wanted, he could have asked to close the window. We probably could have turned on the air conditioning or dug out another fan for him to use. He could have, but he didn't. And, honestly, I don't think he really wanted to. He uses weather like this for another reason. It gives him an excuse to go crawl in bed with Eli.

I know, it's not my business. He's happy, so I'm happy. At least, that's how it works in theory. It's not as bad as it used to be, not since I came back. We've worked out a truce of sorts. He and Eli do their thing. He and I actually try to be friends. I try to tell myself that I'm not in love with him anymore. The usual.

It's a shame that I'm such a bad liar. I can't even convince myself that it's true.

At least we're not the only ones sharing this room. That'd make it even harder to bear. At least, it would if it weren't storming. Tonight, I really don't think that having a roommate is helping, if only because he's currently part of the reason I can't get to sleep.

Somewhere up above, the bed shifts as Kiseop rolls around on the top bunk. A loud peal of thunder sounds from somewhere outside and he lets out a scream that could wake the dead. Lord, he sounds like a woman when he's upset. And when he's happy. And, hell, pretty much any time he's feeling anything. I'd find it funny if I wasn't so tired.

"You okay?" I ask. There's no point in pretending that I didn't hear him. I know he's awake.

There's silence from the top bunk. Then, an audibly deep breath. "Y-yes."

"It's just a storm."

"I know."

Another boom of thunder sounds and he yelps again. This time, the bed shakes as he jumps. Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I let out a sigh. His inability to settle down during the rough weather definitely isn't going to help me drift off any time soon.

"Do you want me to close the window?" I ask. Maybe that would solve part of the problem.

I get a moment of silence as he stops wriggling above me. Then, he replies, "No."

Another sigh.

"Jaeseop?"

 

 

"Yeah?"

"Can I..." he pauses, his soft voice falling completely silent.

Rubbing my temples, I look up at the wood over my head. "Can you what?"

"Can I sleep with you?"

Even though I can't really see much, I look up at the boards over my head skeptically. Did he really just ask if he can come down here? I mean, sure, we've shared a bed before. We're close, after all. All of us are. And, yes, I'm damn sure that Kevin's doing the exact same thing - if not more - in one of the other rooms. With Eli. At the same time, I'm not really in the mood for this sort of cutesy thing tonight. Isn't he a little old for that?

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I wonder if maybe it's me who is being a bit childish. Kiseop is afraid and I'm being grumpy because of something that doesn't even involve him. There's a part of my mind that wouldn't mind the company. I've wanted a little more human contact than I've been getting since I rejoined the others. Before I left, we were all closer than we are now. Time and distance means that we're still getting comfortable with one another again. A certain amount of the intimacy that we all had before is gone.

That's doubly true where Kiseop is concerned. While we are all friends, he and I were especially close before I left for Columbia. More than one night was spent cuddled up on a couch and talking while we watched movies together. We never really said anything of importance, but it's something that I've found myself missing more than once.

I had hoped that, when I came back, we'd fall into that routine again. It hasn't happened. We haven't really talked about it, but something's changed. We used to sit together and just enjoy spending time with one another. Now, most of the talking that we do is with quiet looks and missed conversations.

Maybe it's just me. I don't know. Sometimes, I think it's like he wants to talk to me but doesn't know what to say, or maybe he just never gets the chance. I hate those looks because they make me curious; I want to know what it is he's trying to communicate. And, at the same time, I'm hesitant to ask.

Things just aren't as simple as they used to be. There's more and less to it than there was before, a change in our dynamics that we're both still figuring out. I'm not sure what it is, but I know that I miss him. I just want our friendship to be back to the way it was before I left. How are you supposed to fix something when you don't even know how it's broken?

The last of my resolve breaks as I find myself thinking about the situation between us. I guess it couldn't hurt to give in this once.

"Yeah, come on," I call up. "Careful on your way down. We don't need you falling and twisting your ankle or something."

Scooting over, I press myself back against the wall. It's next to impossible to try and get comfortable while still making room for him to fit. These beds aren't exactly massive. Satisfied that there's enough space, I yank my pillow over under my head and try to straighten the blankets as best I can.

The frame of the bed creaks as he climbs down. A flash of lightning is the only illumination I've got to see him in; he's carrying a pillow and one of his own blankets. Biting his lip, he looks almost shy. Reaching over, I pull back the covers and motion for him to join me. He does so, slowly sitting on the mattress and then lowering himself carefully so that he's lying down.

Even with how tiny the bed is, he's managed to keep the space of a couple of inches between us. He stuffs his pillow under his head, tucks himself in and rolls over so that he's facing away from me. Even from where I'm lying, I can see that he's teetering on the edge of the bed.

So he wanted to come down here and stay as far away as possible? What's the point? I just don't get him sometimes.

If there's one thing I know about Kiseop, it's the fact that he's a klutz. If he lies like that, he's going to fall off onto the floor. Without really thinking about it, I reach out and wrap my hand around his waist, dragging him backwards. Not expecting me to do that, he lets out a loud squeak.

"Jaeseop!" he shouts. Flipping over in surprise, he eliminates the inch or two that had been left between us. "What are you doing?!"

We're both surprised; I wasn't expecting him to flip over. The sudden face-to-face contact makes my heart speed up. This close, it's hard not to notice his expression. His dark eyes are wide, lips slightly parted. He's only a few inches away. Something about his direct gaze is unnerving, like maybe he knows more about what I'm doing than I do.

What does he _think_ I'm doing?

"Just pulling you away from the edge," I murmur. "Don't want you falling off during the night."

He lets out a soft breath. "Oh."

Satisfied with that answer, he snuggles down into his blanket, gingerly tugging at the edges as he tries to get comfortable. As he settles, he shifts away slightly and puts a little more distance between us. If I needed proof that we aren't as close as we used to be, that would be it. I want to say something, but I have no idea what.

Giving up, I try to get comfortable with the wall at my back. It's surprisingly cold, making me want to recoil. Instead, I resist, not wanting to bother him. Somehow, having the two of us in the same bed is a lot more awkward than I thought it would be.

"Why are you still awake?" Kiseop asks suddenly.

His question is surprising; I thought he was trying to sleep. He shivers a little as the wind picks up, driving rain against the windows. I pay the weather no mind, focusing instead on the man next to me. He said he wanted to sleep. Now he wants to talk. I think this is probably the most he's said to me since I came back. Maybe this is my chance to find out why.

"Got too much on my mind," I tell him. "It's just one of those nights."

I'm damn sure he knows exactly why I can't sleep. They all know about my problem. My feelings for Kevin. There's no point in explaining it again, or even telling him that it doesn't matter anymore. I'm tired of the looks the others give me. The last thing I need is Kiseop asking me about the situation, or even trying to really talk to me about it. That's doubly true when he's lying here next to me, confusing me further with his own impossible actions.

He doesn't really respond. Instead, he shifts uneasily, like he's just as bothered by it as I am. Slowly, he relaxes. Little by little, his eyes drift closed. I wonder why I'm watching his face.

When it's just the two of us like this, it's hard not to realize just how much I missed him. He's not like some of the others. He doesn't talk all the time, doesn't make you listen to stupid stories about nothing important. He's just pleasant. Right now, that's exactly what I need. He puts me at ease, even if he was keeping me awake by throwing a fit only a few minutes ago.

His nose twitches as he starts to drift off to sleep, a strand of hair tickling his skin. Reaching out, I smooth the hair back out of his face. He let out a quiet sigh, smiling softly as the irritation is removed. He really is kind of pretty, even when he's not covered with make-up and making stupid duck faces at the camera. Maybe more so.

Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like him instead?

Kiseop is uncomplicated. He simply is the way that he is. Sure, that might mean that he throws a fit when something doesn't go his way, or that he can be difficult and childish. His pranks can be troublesome and downright stupid, even if they're funny. And, yeah, he can be a total drama queen. But he's always been good company, comfortable to be around. I've never had to wonder if he's telling me the whole truth, and he's never pulled away from me just because there was a camera somewhere in the room. He isn't uneasy with himself. He doesn't treat others differently because of his own insecurities.

With someone like that, yeah, I would have had a lot less stress over the past couple of years. Unfortunately, that's just not how things happened. Now, here I am, lying in my bed and unable to sleep while thinking about things that don't even matter anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice startles me out of my thoughts. He's not asleep, apparently. His eyes are still closed, his expression relaxed. Maybe he's talking in his sleep again, the way he sometimes does, but he's not slurring.

Curious, I respond, "What is it?"

Now I know he's awake. He opens his eyes to look at me, his lips turning up in a sweet smile. "I missed you."

A little bit of warmth flows through my chest at those words. They're simple, but they mean a lot. I've heard similar from the other guys more than once, but I don't know if I've ever really heard them mean it. This is a little different.

"I missed you, too," I tell him softly.

He shifts subtly under the blankets, scooting a half inch closer. The smile on his lips falls a little and that expression is back. The one that tells me that he has something else that he wants to say. His plush lips part as he finally prepares to tell me his closely kept secret. Instead, he lets out a high pitched shriek as a loud boom of thunder echoes through the room.

Jumping nearly a foot out of bed, he lands solidly on my chest, forcing me flat on my back. We both slide down onto the mattress as my shirt slips down the wall behind me. I let out a groan as I try to catch the breath that was just knocked out of me. Kiseop struggles against my chest, whacking my nose with his arm and jabbing me in the stomach with a sharp elbow.

"Fuck!" I shout, pressing a hand to my nose. "Ow!"

"Sorry!" He's panicking. "I just can't stand--Aah!"

Another rumble sounds, further away, and suddenly he's cowering against my chest. He's very warm. Rubbing my nose, I take a breath and look down at him. It's hard to ignore the way that my pulse has sped up thanks to having him so unexpectedly close.

"Geez, Kiseop." I want to complain, but my voice is a lot softer than I intended. It's hard to be upset with someone who has their eyes screwed shut like they're afraid they're going to see a monster if they open them. "It's just a little thunder."

"It's scary," he mumbles.

Apparently realizing our position, he peeks up at me. Is he blushing? For a split second, I think he's going to move away. I'm not sure if I really want him to, even if this position is fucking awkward. Trying to get a little more comfortable I roll a little so I'm no longer flat on my back.

Rather than staying, he takes my movement as encouragement to back off and starts to pull away. Reaching out, I wrap my arm around his waist and stop him from moving. Neither of us were expecting it. I certainly hadn't actually planned to do that. Now that I have, I don't really want to take it back, either.

"If you're scared, just stay here." It's a lame reply, but it's better than trying to come up with some other excuse for wanting him close to me. "I don't mind."

He hesitates, uncertain of what to do with this sudden change. The look on his face makes me think that he's not really sure whether or not I'm serious. Apparently deciding I am, he relaxes. Just a bit. We both take a few awkward breaths. He doesn't know why I've just pulled him close. I'm not really sure, either. I just know that it feels good to have him next to me. I like the closeness. And, hell, he even smells good. Now I'm the one blushing.

Even though we've shifted, I'm still uncomfortable. My shirt has inched up my back. If I thought the wall was cold before, it's worse without even the t-shirt in the way. His comforter and mine have become tangled up, making for an ungainly wad shoved between our legs. Yet, here we are.

Despite the fact that it's hot in the room, the cool air blowing in from the storm outside is enough to raise goosebumps on my skin. For some reason, I feel fine like this. Uncomfortable, cold and awkward. With one of my arms around him and his body lightly pressed against mine, I don't mind. This reminds me of those nights when we'd watch movies together, when we were still close. This is what I've been missing. So long as he doesn't take another swing at my nose, this is okay.

Even though he came down here with the intention of sleeping, he's wide eyed and staring at me. I can't read his mind. I have no idea what he's thinking but, whatever it is, it must really be something. He's biting his bottom lip, drawing my eyes.

Slowly, he reaches up and gingerly touches my nose. I can barely feel his fingertips as he tries to inspect the invisible damage in the dark.

"Did I break it?" he asks softly.

At that, I laugh. "You don't hit that hard. Not even when you're flailing around like that. Just stings a bit, that's all."

"Really?"

How can someone sound hopeful over something like that? Somehow, he manages it.

"Yes, really. Just get some sleep now, okay? You're safe."

He takes a deep breath, loud enough that it's audible. "I don't want to."

The hand on my nose pulls away, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face. He doesn't bother to pull his fingers away completely. Instead, he traces the side of my face with his fingertips instead. The touch is completely unexpected, just like the chill it sends down my back that has nothing to do with the wall at my back.

"Kiseop, what are you doing?"

"Is it okay like this?" he asks in response. "Is it okay if it's me?"

What little relaxation I had managed leaves in a hurry as the pieces fall into place for me. Now I understand all those quiet looks, what he had wanted to say to me a few minutes ago. Maybe not in detail, but this is more than enough for me to get the general idea. I guess I wasn’t the only one wondering why it wasn't him. My entire body goes stiff as I glance down at him, unable to stop my hand from tightening around his waist. Surely he can't be serious.

"What are you talking about?"

As soon as the question leaves my lips, I know that it doesn't sound nearly as casual as I want it to. My thoughts from a few minutes ago float back to the surface. What am I supposed to do in a situation like this? I have no clue. I never thought I'd be having this conversation with Kiseop.

He isn't fooled by my attempt at playing dumb. The uncertainty in his eyes turns to resolve and he starts to lean up towards me, fingers tightening in the thin fabric of my t-shirt. He doesn't have to answer my question; he intends on showing me, instead.

Smarter men would have the sense to stop it. Apparently, I'm not that bright. I do nothing to push him away as he presses his lips against mine. I wish I could say I was surprised, or that I didn't expect it. Instead, my first thought is only of how hesitant he is. I cannot help but to give in, my eyes closing without my say so as we brush together.

He kisses me once, twice and again. On the third, I lean in and kiss him back. That little bit of warmth I felt earlier is back, making my heartbeat speed up as I feel him give way, letting me guide what we're doing. It isn't deep or even incredibly forward. Just our mouths moving in sync. Simple, gentle and completely unassuming. That one kiss says more than words could for both of us.

When we pull apart, neither of us really knows what to do. His eyes are wide, as though he has just realized what happened.

Swallowing hard, I have to ask the question that I can't stop thinking about now. "How long?"

"Just before you left," he replies, his voice hushed like he's telling a secret. "I figured it out about a week before. I wanted to say something, but then you were so busy and then you were just... gone, so..."

That long? Holy shit. I never noticed. Or maybe I was trying not to notice. I'm not really sure; there was only one person I could see back then and it wasn't him. All too easily, those last couple of nights come to mind, where Kiseop had leaned up against me and looked at me like my leaving was the worst thing that ever happened to him.

_Why wasn't it him?_

Maybe it _was_.

I want to respond to what he's telling me but I don't have the words.

Biting his lip, he eliminates the need. Softly, he asks, "What about you?"

"About ten minutes."

_But I think it's been longer. Maybe a whole hell of a lot longer._

The fingers he has been running through my hair drift down to the side of my face. I have no idea what's going on but, all of the sudden, a lot of little moments between us are starting to make a whole lot more sense than they used to. My heart is pounding in my chest as the realization of just how much he means to me starts to settle in. I wonder if he has any idea how much all of this is making my head spin.

Slowly, he traces the shape of my lips with one fingertip. He doesn't seem nervous or on edge anymore. The finger tickles. He smiles when I lick my lips, trying to moisten them.

"Kiss me," he says. "If you want me, Jaeseop, just kiss me."

That's all the invitation that I need. Wrapping my hand more securely around his waist, I pull him closer. Reaching out with the hand that had been sandwiched under my pillow, I bury my fingers in his hair and tilt his head back so I can bring our lips together once more.

He whimpers into the kiss as the weather outside turns turbulent, rumbling softly through the open window. The fingers he has tangled in my t-shirt tighten, pulling the fabric down uncomfortably on my shoulders. Wanting to ease the tension, I lean closer still and press us together.

These pretty kisses are sweet, but they're more than enough to make me want more. Now that I've got him in my arms, I'm starting to realize how much I want him. I've been a complete idiot for ignoring him for so long.

_Kiseop_.

Parting my lips, I drag my tongue across the seam of his lips and ask for more. He gives in immediately, tilting his head and letting me deepen the caress. He is so much sweeter than I ever could have thought. I love the way that he is holding onto me, letting me know that I am not the only one affected by what we are doing.

Against my mouth, his lips turn hungry. He is no longer giving in to my direction. Now, I am getting back everything that I am giving. He shivers in my arms, letting go of my shirt long enough to push our blankets out of the way. A second later, I can feel his chest against my own, no longer separated by bedding.

As he lays half-on and half-off of me, his hand returns to my shirt but only long enough for him to push it out of the way. Then, I can feel the heat of his fingers on my stomach. All the muscles in my body seem to contract at the single touch. Without even meaning to, I push myself up against him, wishing he'd touch me more.

My tongue brushes against his, making him groan. Sliding my hand further down his waist, I press my fingers under his shirt and drag them down his spine. The little noise he made turns louder as he arches up against me. We are devouring each other, losing ourselves in the heat. The sweet, gentle kisses of only a moment before are gone as he pushes me backwards, consuming my lips and pushing me down onto the mattress.

The hand in my hair moves, his arm wrapping around my neck instead. The tension between us is more than palpable, the heat filling the air. Our chests grind together, both of us trying to get closer than we possibly can. Our mouths moving together is pushing all of the right buttons to make my head swim. I'm hypnotized, drowning in the feeling.

I want to feel more of him. Reaching down, I grab his calf and hike his leg over mine. He slides that long leg up my thigh, wrapping it around my hip and pressing us together. There's nothing between us but clothing now, and even those thin barriers are becoming an annoyance.

Rolling a little further onto my back, I pull him on top of me. He follows easily, lying on my stomach with every inch of his body molded to mine. I can't remember the last time I felt so completely attuned to someone else, like having them close was the only thing that mattered. Right now, though, that feeling of our mixed heat is the only goddamn thing I can think of.

He slides his hand further up my stomach, exploring my body. Still running my own fingers down his back, I bring my other hand to join the first. We haven't even done anything but his skin is already slick with sweat. Arching my fingers, I scratch little lines down his skin. He moans loudly against my lips, clinging to me and pressing his hips into mine.

That sound and the feel of what we are doing sends a thrill down my back. This is more than just a kiss or even a simple make-out session. This is foreplay, plain and simple. If we keep going this way, I don't know that I'll be able to stop.

That thought is enough to pull me back to reality. I break away from the kiss, panting loudly against his lips.

"Kiseop," I manage to say shakily, "wait. Slow down."

He's breathing raggedly, everything about him unsteady. Pulling back ever so slightly, he looks at me with confusion in his eyes.

"Do you... not want me?" he asks.

It's amazing how five words can make me feel like an idiot. Every nerve in my body is telling me to shut up and just go back to what we were doing. I think it's safe to say that I want him. Bordering on need. I've never wanted somebody so much in my life. My breath catches in my throat as that realization hits; not even _him_.

" _Fuck_..." Taking a shuddering breath, I actually have to stop myself from leaning back in and claiming his mouth once more. I wish he wouldn't bite his lip like that. "That's not it at all."

The hand he has on my stomach curls into a fist. He's so confused, and that look on his face is only getting more so with every passing moment. "Why did you stop, then?"

Does he really not understand why we need to take a breather?

I've never gotten this carried away before. Not even when I'm partying and trying to let loose. Right now, my head feels fuzzy like I've had too much to drink. I can barely think straight. He's intoxicating, and I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing because the only thing I can think of is the way he's still pressed up against me.

"Kiseop, we're not even together. I... we... I didn't even think you... look, I don't usually do stuff like this."

How can he expect me to form sentences when he's looking at me like that?

Sure, I had considered snuggling with him when he came down from the top bunk, but it wasn't like I had ever considered something like this. I wasn't exactly expecting to wind up flat on my back with my sexy friend lying on my stomach with his hand up my shirt and my own fingers heading for his ass.

It's not like I haven't done stuff like this before, and it wouldn't be the first time I did something like this on a whim with someone. At the same time, this is a completely different situation. I'm not really that sort of person. I've got no interest in sex for the sake of sex, especially right now. Especially with Kiseop. And there's not a doubt in my mind that if we kept going, that's exactly what would wind up happening. He's giving me an open invitation, and I'm running out of reasons to say no.

Half of my problem is that I don't know if this is just lust or something more. My thoughts and feelings are all mixed up, shaken apart by the suddenness of what is happening. Looking at him, I get my answer. It's in the way that he's looking at me, his doe eyes waiting to see if I'm going to say anything else. It's the pout of his lips, the way I can tell that he's holding back just as much as I am.

What really seals it for me, though, is the way that my heart speeds up just thinking about it. Just from having him close. Part of it's because he feels so damn good pressed up against me like this. And the rest of it? I'm more than happy that he's here with me like this. That it's him.

That's the reason I'm hesitating. With Kiseop, I want more than just sex.

"Do you want me?" he says softly. The way he's saying it makes it sound as though he expects me to say no.

Instead, I ask, "In what way?"

"Any way," he replies. "I want to be yours."

_Mine?_

I take a deep breath, uncertain of how to respond. Is it really okay to just say yes? I feel like there's something else I should say, maybe something I should do. Or maybe it's that something else I should have been doing since long before I left, since he and I first started to get close.

Outside, the rain picks up. I can hear the droplets pelting the window, some of them blowing inside and hitting the wooden floor. The sound of the wind matches the swirl of the thoughts running through my mind. Whatever I decide now, I know I won't change my mind later. All I have to do is choose.

Almost unaware of what I am doing, I nod. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

It's as easy as that. With one word, I'm his. I have given in. We can work out the details later. Right now, I just need to feel him.

Giving no other response, I pull one of my hands away from his back and cup the side of his face instead. Leaning up to meet him halfway, I tug him down for another kiss.

It's back again, that feeling of hesitancy from the first time he kissed me tonight. It's like he doesn't really believe me. Pushing any doubts I have left aside, I tilt my head to the left and deepen the embrace. My hand is buried in his hand once more, the soft strands wrapping around my fingers. He parts his lips, letting me claim more of him with my mouth and tongue.

Lightning illuminates the sky outside. A split second later, a loud crack of thunder shakes the room. Jumping slightly, Kiseop lets out a distressed whimper against my mouth. The hand he has on my stomach flexes instinctively, his nails biting into my skin. It should hurt. All it does is make me groan, especially when his hand in my hair tightens and tugs me away from the kiss.

He moves away as soon as the rumbling has died down, sitting back so that he is straddling one of my legs. My body is tingling, desperately wanting him back in my arms even though he is still so close. The reasons for his departure, however, become clear the instant he tugs his shirt over his head. He tosses it somewhere in the vague direction of the other bed, leaving him bare to my eyes.

That pretty face of his can make you forget just how well-cut he is. I can't help but stare. My chance to take him in is lost in the soft smile he gives me. He knows all too well just how good he looks. I don't mind feeding that part of his ego a little bit.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, though, he reaches out and tugs at the edges of my shirt, too. Sitting up, I yank my sleep shirt off and throw it over towards where his landed. Then, not waiting another second, I pull him back down on top of me. Without the shirts in the way, our skin burns as we brush together. Hands begin to wander, no longer satisfied with what we had been doing before.

Sliding both of my hands around his chest, I begin to memorize the feel of his shoulders and back. While he is definitely muscular, his skin is unbelievably soft. He's irresistible like this, especially when he keeps making quiet murmurs that tell me that he enjoys being touched like this.

He trembles under my fingers. With every small movement we make, he is pressing himself closer to me. I can feel his hands on my skin, sliding one hand down my side while the other runs through the thin covering of hair on my chest. Our lips meet briefly, but he pulls away to press a kiss to my collarbone instead.

Trailing his tongue across my chest, he manages to draw a quiet moan from me as he wraps his lips around one of my nipples. His teeth graze the nub, sending sparks of electricity through my body. Slowly, teasingly, he moves further down my chest, pressing his lips to my skin every couple of inches. I cannot take my eyes off the sight of him going lower, smiling when he hits a ticklish spot.

Then, he's hovering over the waist of my sweatpants. Looking up the length of my body, he meets my eyes with a look that tells me that he really isn't asking for permission to keep going. He just wants to see my reaction.

"Jaeseop," he murmurs.

Reaching out with one hand, he wrap his fingers around my arousal through the thick fabric. Even through the pants, I can feet the heat of his hold. My eyes slide closed and I part my lips, unable to stop the sound of enjoyment the pressure draws out of me.

My hands slide off his shoulders, drifting down so that I'm holding onto his arms. Slowly, I press my hips into his touch. I'm already throbbing; his teasing is only making me want him more. Those fingers around my dick tighten as he strokes me gently through the fabric. He's watching me with amused eyes, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting.

Apparently, having my sweats in the way is driving both of us crazy. Pulling his hand away, he slides his fingers up and dips them under the waist of my pants. I lift my hips, letting him pull them off. As soon as they're gone, the chill of the breeze from the window becomes incredibly apparent. The cool air raises goosebumps over every inch of my body. He warms me up by lying down on me once more, his naked chest pressed against mine.

He presses a gentle kiss to my lips. Then, he murmurs, "Thank you for letting me do this."

"Kiseop," I breathe. "I want you."

Trying to sit up, I lean forward in an attempt to switch our positions. Not allowing me to do so, he places a hand on my chest and pushes me back down on the bed. He presses a kiss to my shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue," he tells me.

I groan in response, this time out of frustration. the sound quickly turns into one of pleasure as he settles back onto his heels and begins to stroke my arousal. Without something between our skin, the feeling is more than intense, especially when he leans forward and begins to make his way down my body once more. His lips are pressing kisses to my skin, tickling their way down to my hips. The lightest flutter of his mouth on the tender skin there is the only warning I get before he takes in all of me.

Suddenly, the world is spinning around me as the wet heat of his mouth consumes me. Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch as my cock disappears between his plush lips. Just seeing him do that is enough to make my length twitch, making me even harder than I already was.

Aware that my eyes are on him, he pulls back and traces my tip with his tongue, dipping into the slit as he continues to stroke me slowly. He knows just how arousing it is to be able to watch him. He's making the most of it, knowing that he has my attention. Smiling softly, he slips his middle finger into his mouth, wetting it thoroughly as he keeps up the steady motions with his other hand.

Then, he's taking me into his mouth again. He settles between my legs, taking as much of me into his mouth as he can manage. I cannot keep holding myself up any longer. Falling back onto my pillow, I pull one of my hands away from his arm to grip my own hair. It's hard to resist the urge to thrust up into his mouth. Everything he's doing feels so damn good that I can barely see straight.

The finger he had been sucking on presses up against my ass. I don't even bother questioning that. Seeing no sign of resistance from me, he presses it inside. The slight pressure is more than worth the sensation that follows as he begins to move it in time with his mouth. It's that extra little bit that drives me crazy.

"Oh, shit," is all I can say as my back arches off the bed.

The finger he has in me brushes against something and it feels like a bolt of electricity is shooting straight down my dick. Thrusting into his hips, I wonder vaguely where he learned to do this. Then, his fingers tighten around the base of my cock and he takes me into his throat and I decide it really doesn't matter.

The feel of him fucking me with that finger is driving me completely crazy, setting my body on fire along with the way his tongue is sliding up my cock. Every little thing he does is making me wind tighter and tighter. My hand on his arm tightens as I get nearer to my peak. His teeth graze my skin ever so gently, sending sparks up my spine. He rubs my spot a little more firmly in time with every bob of his head. There's no way I'm going to be able to last.

"God, I'm going to--"

I don't even get time to finish my sentence. I glance down just in time to see Kiseop's lips tighten over me one last time. He looks up at me, meeting my eyes, and I'm gone. The world breaks apart as I go over the edge, emptying myself into his mouth and trembling through every last bit of pleasure.

Everything is fuzzy around me as I come down off my high. He pulls away, sliding up the bed to lie next to me. Sliding an arm over my chest, he leans up against me, breathing almost as heavily as I am. That and the sound of the rain are the only two things I can hear or even think about clearly.

Slowly opening my eyes, I look over at him. He's beaming at me. He's completely elated with what he's done. He looks so happy that he's practically glowing. Damn, why have I never taken a second look at him? He's gorgeous. It's impossible not to smile, too.

"That was..." I pause, trying to think of the word. I can't find one. "That was... wow."

I'm sure my words are almost incomprehensible, but the bright grin on his lips widens further at the compliment.

Rolling to my side, I ignore the way that my muscles protest at the request for movement. Wanting to keep him close, I wrap an arm around his waist. My body is demanding sleep now drained by both the orgasm and my lack of rest, but I'm not done with him yet. He lets out a quiet murmur as the hand on his side moves lower, pulling his hips up against mine. I can feel just how turned on he is. That's more than enough to get my blood boiling again. I'm still hard, even after I came like that. I want him. Badly.

He tugs on me and I follow the pull, moving to hover over him. When he leans up to kiss me I can still taste myself on his lips. That's hot.

"Take me," he says surprisingly sweetly. "Please, Jaeseop."

"Are you sure?" I ask, meeting his eyes. He's beautiful.

He nods so slightly that I barely see it. "I need you... in me."

Even if I wanted to resist, I don't think I could. Those five words are enough to make my heart jump into my throat, an unexpected surge of emotion reinforcing the desire I'm feeling. I'm starting to realize just how much I care for him. Earlier, he said he wanted to be mine. Now, I'll claim him every way I know how.

Sliding my leg between both of his, I press my thigh up against the bulge that I can feel through his pajama pants. He lets out a quiet moan, his arms tightening around me slightly at the pressure. As I move my lips to his neck, he tilts his head to the side and lets me do as I want. Right now, what I want is to taste every inch of his skin.

Holding myself up with one hand, I let the other slide down his stomach as I press kisses to his pale skin. I have never been this captivated with anyone. It's more than what he's just done for me. It's everything about him. The way he smells, the sweet taste of his skin. I can feel the smooth beating of his pulse as my mouth trails down his neck and even the way it speeds up just makes me want to do more for him.

When I hit a sensitive spot, he lets out a breathy cry. Pressing closer, our bodies brush together as we move. He's going to have love bites up and down his neck tomorrow. He's always so careful with his appearance. With what I'm doing now, he's definitely going to be marked up for a few days. For a split second, I wonder if he'll mind what I'm doing. The instant the thought crosses my mind, his quiet murmuring turns into a moan that sends a thrill through me. No, I don't think he minds at all.

"More," he whispers.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding me to him as I taste his skin. They tighten as the thunder outside gets louder, the leaves of the trees outside rustling in the wind. I'm not sure if it's my teeth grazing his collarbone or his fear of the weather that makes him whine the way he does when I bite down a little.

His request is an invitation that I'm happy to take. Not wanting to disappoint, I slide my hand lower on his stomach. His muscles contract under my fingers as I trace the waist of his sleep pants, pressing my hand down further until I am stroking him through the fabric. God, he's warm. The heat of his length is burning against my palm, even through the cloth.

Tightening my fingers around his length, I stroke him experimentally. Even though the touch is light as air, he's squirming under me, trying to get more of the friction that I'm offering. I like the way that he pushes his hips up against my hand hesitantly, like he's not really sure whether or not I'll let him. Maybe he's trying to restrain himself and let me take my time. Whether or not he is, I don't want to hurry this.

My lips brush across his chest, taking in his salty-sweet taste. As my tongue drags across one of his nipples, he pulls my head down harder to his chest. The way his fingernails dig into my skin tell me that he's enjoying what I'm giving him, but I think we're both wanting more.

My resolve is slowly wearing thin. Slowly pulling away, I sit back and move to the side. His arms fall away, tangling in the bedsheets instead. Gently, my fingers find their way under his waistband. Hooking both his sleep pants and his underwear with my thumbs, I slide them off of him. He offers no resistance, lifting his legs to help me get rid of the clothing. As soon as those barriers are gone, I turn my attention back to him.

There's not much light in here, just the occasional flickers of lightning from the storm, but there's more than enough to admire him in. He's making no effort to cover himself up. Instead, he's spread open, letting me look until I've had my fill. He's milk-pale in this light, but I know he's blushing. He has beautiful hands. They spread out over his own skin now, one of them tracing across his chest. The other is making its way slowly down his stomach, like he's trying to resist touching himself. Every inch of his body is toned and perfect, from his flushed cheeks to the solid length of his cock and his beautiful legs. He's breathtaking.

If it's relief he's wanting, I'm more than happy to oblige. Settling myself between his legs once more, I run my hands up both of his long legs. When I reach his hips, I wrap one hand around his length and begin to stroke him. The happy half-smile on his face vanishes and his mouth falls open as I set a steady pace.

Dragging my thumb up the underside of his arousal, I smirk as he thrusts into my grip. Without even my even having to ask, he spreads his legs further apart. Pulling my hand away from his cock, I brush both of my hands over his thighs and the lower part of his stomach, watching the way he shivers under the touch. My fingers brush down over his sac. I'm enjoying watching the way he tenses in anticipation as I make my way further back.

Running my finger across his entrance. I watch in fascination as his puckered hole contracts, trying to suck me in. Pulling away far enough that I can see the face, I can tell that he and I are thinking the same thing; neither of us can really believe that we're about to do this. We're turning a corner, passing the point of no return and a dozen other cliches, and all of this is happening so fast. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little unsure, but it'd be equally untrue if I said I didn't want him.

Hesitating, I bring my hand up to my lips and spit onto my fingers. Pulling them away and pressing them up against his backside, I trace circles around his entrance.

"You'll tell me if you want to stop, right?" I ask.

He runs his tongue across his top lip, nodding lazily in response. As I press one finger up against him and begin to push in, the tongue vanishes as he bites his lip. The expression on his face doesn't look like pain. He looks like he's enjoying it, even though I haven't even really done anything.

"Is this okay?"

There's no real need to ask, but I want him to enjoy what we're doing even if there will be at least a little discomfort. He's responding to what I'm doing with more than words, though, and that's almost enough for me. His body is tight and hot around my finger, his muscles clenching at the single digit. It's enough to make my dick twitch with need. I'm going to have a hard time going as slow as I want.

"You can... use more," he replies. "You won't hurt me."

If he wants more, he can have it. Pressing a second finger into him, I start slowly thrusting both of them at a steady pace. There's a momentary pause as he gets used to the new sensation. Then, he rolls his hips, pushing back against my hand. Seeing him enjoying what I'm doing, even if I'm just getting him ready, is one hell of a turn on.

Adding a third finger, I stretch him more without breaking pace. He's panting, fists clenching in the sheets at his side now. I never knew it was this easy to get him so wound up, and I never would have imagined that he looked so completely irresistible when he's like this.

When I push my fingers in all the way, they brush against what I'm looking for. He lets out a heavy breath, his cock pulsing as I withdraw the digits entirely. He's more than ready, and I cannot wait any longer.

Spitting into my palm once more, I stroke myself and move into position. Leaning forward, I'm hovering over him, meeting his eyes. Our faces are barely an inch apart as I press the tip of my cock up against him, savoring the feel of his heat.

"Ready?"

"Take me," he whispers in response.

Crashing my lips down onto his, I thrust into him in a single stroke.

One second, I'm feeling the chill of the air in the room. The next, it's like every nerve in my body is on fire. He's the closest thing to heaven that I've ever felt. We're both moaning into the kiss as I come to a halt, completely buried him him. I want to give him a chance to adjust. He might have been fine with my fingers but I'm definitely bigger than they are.

His arms shoot up, wrapping around my shoulders once more and clinging to my skin. I slide one of my own to rest against his side, holding him as best I can. He feels so good. I can't concentrate on the kiss. Instead, I lean my head on his shoulder. God, he's tight. My entire body is telling me to move, but I want to wait until he's ready.

Warm breaths brush across my ear as he gets used to the feeling of having me in him. His fingers flex against my back, then loosen slightly. After a moment, he rolls his hips, giving me the smallest indication that I have waited long enough. Pulling out halfway, I can't conceal the quiet moan of pleasure I give at the friction. That feeling is doubled as I push back in. It's not hard or fast, but it still makes my head swim.

The two of us begin to move together, heavy breaths mingling in the early morning air. He's hardly a passive participant; every move he make is met with one of his own, his body rolling under mine as I take him. I love the way that his fingers are sliding down my back, encouraging me to thrust harder. His nails scratch soft trails down my spine and over my shoulder blades, fingers tensing as I push into him a little more roughly.

"Jaeseop," he gasps.

I had no idea my name could sound so fucking sexy. I'd like to hear more of that.

Pressing my lips to his throat, I match the movements of my mouth to what our fingers are doing down below. Everything about this is making me feel heady and drunk, lost in the feel of him and every breath he takes. Nothing else matters outside of this room, outside of his arms.

His legs wrap around my hips, his heel digging into my backside. Using his legs, he pulls me into him harder, telling me without words that he wants more. Giving him, I begin to pick up the pace. The new speed makes the previously dizzying pleasure I was feeling spike a little bit higher. My skin is tingling now, alight with arousal.

Needing more, I scoot forward and tilt his hips for a better angle. As I thrust into him again, he cries out and I know that I've found his sweet spot. He screws his eyes shut, his face pressed back against the pillow. He can't keep clinging to me anymore. He's shivering and sweating, none of it from the cold. His pale skin is flushed, lips pouting and swollen from our rough kisses. He looks completely debauched and, right now, he's all mine. I never want to forget what he looks like right now, in this moment.

"God," I groan, "you feel amazing."

The heat of his arousal is pressing up against my stomach. Leaning on the arm that I have pressed against his side, I wrap my fingers around him and begin to stroke. That single action draws a moan from his lips, so loud that I wonder if he'll wake the others. Even if he does, I don't care so long as I've got him here with me.

The sweet feeling of pushing into him intensifies when his body tightens as we work ourselves into a frenzy. The nails of one of his hands are digging into the skin on my back, the slight bite only multiplying the feeling of everything else that's going on. His other hand is still tangled in his hair, pulling every time I swirl my fingers around the tip of his cock in time with my hips.

Then, suddenly, the all-consuming heat that has been building starts to tighten. Leaning forward a little more, I give him everything I've got. I'm almost there. The way he's whispering my name, cursing under his breath, tells me that I'm not the only one.

"More," he tells me. "Please, I want... I need..."

My hand on his cock moves faster with every stroke. I can feel his precum lubricating the movement, his length throbbing against my fingers. My hips are rocking into him at an unbelievable speed that I know I can't keep up, but I don't need to. Three more thrusts and he screams, long and low. He pulses in my hand, his come shooting out and coating my fingers and our stomachs.

The feel and sight of watching him go over the edge is my undoing. With one last push, my entire body tenses and it feels like the universe has concentrated into a single point as I hit my peak. His name leaves my lips in a harsh cry as I empty myself completely inside of him.

For a second, the entire world is white. Then, I'm collapsing on top of him, completely finished. He reaches up shakily, pulling me close again. The hold tightens as a crack of thunder sounds through the open window. I had completely forgotten about the storm. I had completely forgotten about anything but him.

The position is awkward as I try to return the old. After only a few seconds, I give up on the attempt. Slowly, I pull out of him and roll to the side, unable to completely ignore his dissatisfied whimper. Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him up against me once more. Burying my face in his hair, my entire body relaxes as we lie there in the darkness and hold one another.

What a strange feeling. It's like there's absolutely nothing wrong. For once, I'm not jealous, or worried, or wondering where someone is. There's no vague feeling of discontent, like everything I do is inadequate no matter how hard I try. I just feel content. Really, honestly happy. Even the fact that I've had no sleep doesn't matter, or the fact that we're probably both going to be sore when we finally come back down to earth. I'm just happy right now.

Pulling back to look at his face, I take in his soft smile. I can't remember the last time I saw him looking so happy. No, maybe I can, back on those nights when it was just the two of us. I really missed having him close. Now, I don't think I want to let him go.

"Still afraid of the storm?" I ask, rubbing his back with one hand. I can feel his heartbeat. It matches mine.

He shakes his head, leaning heavily against me. His arm around my waist moves slowly, his fingers tracing circles on my back.

"You make me feel safe," he whispers, smiling against my skin.

He looks up at me through a mop of black hair, searching my face for something. His lips move soundlessly, saying my name.

"What is it?"

Quietly, he asks, "Do you want me?"

This time, there's nothing sexual about the words. The question runs deeper, asking more than whether or not I care about him. He's asking what I want. It's an honest enough question, one that I was asking myself before we went through with all of this.

Feeling him here in my arms, seeing that look on his face, I already know my answer.

"Yeah," I tell him, taking a breath. "I want you."

Scooting up another inch or two on the mattress, he presses a chaste kiss to my lips. He lingers, murmuring happily as I kiss him back. When we part, there's only enough distance between us to breathe. Those dark eyes of his are sparkling, shining with emotion.

"I love you," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."

The warmth that I felt earlier returns, filling me up until I think I might burst. I never would have thought that hearing those three little words from someone could mean so much. Yet, they're all I need right now. Could this moment be any more perfect?

Yes, it could.

Leaning down, I press a kiss to his cheek.

"Be mine, Kiseop."

His entire body goes stock still as the words register. Then, he buries his face against my chest, nodding enthusiastically. I can feel his toes wiggling against my legs. Chuckling, I run a hand through his hair.

It's insanely late. I don't even know what time it is. When it comes time for practice, I'm sure we'll both regret staying up so late. It was worth it. The only thing I need to make my night complete now is to finally give in to the overwhelming exhaustion I'm feeling.

"Get some rest," I tell him. "I'm right here."

Closing my eyes, I settle back into the blankets, holding Kiseop close to my heart.

Minutes tick by and curiosity wins out. I open my eyes, glancing across the room. Kevin's bed sits empty but I no longer care. Trying to focus enough to read the clock on the nightstand, I brush some of the sleep out of my eyes. Slowly, the glowing numbers come into focus.

05:29.

"Oh, f--"

BZZZZZZT.


End file.
